


It's your job

by falsepremise



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale loves Crowley, Blow Job, Crowley loves Aziraphale, Dubious Consent, Fantasy, First Time, Frottage, Get Together, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, M/M, Masturbation, Roman baths, Seduction, Smut, Temptation, Water Sex, demonic tricks, gratuitous use of water, light master/slave talk, sexy miracle use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:42:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28065666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falsepremise/pseuds/falsepremise
Summary: After a night sucking oysters with Aziraphale, Crowley just can’t sleep. Perhaps he should hang around in Rome a little longer... After all, tempting a certain angel is his job, isn’t it?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 136
Collections: "O Lord Heal This Gift Exchange 2020" [OLHTS discord server]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Literarion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Literarion/gifts).



Crowley tumbled into his bed at the swanky hotel—hospitia—that he’d been using as his base of operations for the past couple of days. It was late. Very late. But there was still enough time to catch a little sleep before dawn. Still a little time to catch some sleep before getting far, far away from here. 

Only, Crowley couldn’t sleep. And not for the reasons he would have expected if you’d have asked him earlier that day. It wasn’t the terrible day that lingered. Nah. It was the evening. The absolutely brilliant, fantastic, wonderful evening. It wasn’t Caligula who haunted him. Nah. It was… it was… Crowley quickly cut off that thought. No. That’s it. Shut up. 

He took a deep breath and ruffled up his pillow—that’s right, hospitia so swanky Crowley had a feather pillow, if you’re gonna to do then do it with style—closed his eyes and tried very hard to sleep.

Oh, that’s your job, isn’t it?

Crowley sighed and flipped onto his side. It was. Apparently. His job. Tempting people. He was shit at it, of course. Absolutely hopeless. Just hanging on by the skin of his teeth, really. The trouble was- the trouble was- the humans. They were just so much better at it. The tempting. They tempted each other. In fact, they didn’t even need tempting most of the time. Crowley missed the days when a little whisper about an apple could get the job done. His last six assignments had involved simply taking credit for what the humans were already doing. And four of them were worse than anything Crowley could come up with, worse than anything Hell had ever assigned him. He’d have to simply take credit for Caligula’s mess too. And, truth be told, it made him sick to his stomach. 

Crowley had tried to explain all of that to his superiors down there. Well, not the bit about his personal disgust, but how humans were talented with all the evil business if you just left them be, but they didn’t listen. Course they didn’t. They couldn’t possibly understand. No one down there really understood what things were like on Earth. None of them truly understood the humans. Course, no one up there did either. Crowley snorted. No one else understood except, well except…

Oh, that’s your job, isn’t it?

Crowley moaned into his pillow. He closed his eyes so tightly he saw little white spots, took several deep breaths, and tried to clear his mind. He tried so very hard but Aziraphale’s face floated in front of him as clear as anything: perfect white-blonde hair, the little up turn of his nose, and his eyes, oh his eyes… Crowley still couldn’t decide what colour they were but they were always filled with such unbridled joy, such delight. And just a little bit, a little hint of mischief and, oh did that draw Crowley in, as surely as anything. 

‘Let me tempt you…’ Aziraphale had said, eyebrows raised, wiggling ever so slightly as he did when he was truly excited, as if he couldn’t quite contain his unbridled enthusiasm for life, ‘Oh,’ he’d added eyes alight, ‘that’s your job, isn’t it?’

Crowley moaned again and decided to surrender to the inevitable. He slipped his hand under his tunic and palmed his hard prick through the loincloth. Oh. That felt good. He hissed. 

What had Aziraphale meant? Did he want Crowley to tempt him? Stupid. Ridiculous. Shut up. Crowley squeezed his prick and hissed again.

He licked his lips. But what if Aziraphale did want Crowley to tempt him? What if Crowley wasn’t the only one feeling this way? Aziraphale understood all the rest of it. He was the only one who understood all the rest of it. I mean, oysters for fuck’s sake. Crowley might never have eaten an oyster, but he knew exactly what the humans thought of them.

Then Crowley remembered what Aziraphale had looked like actually eating the oysters. He remembered how Aziraphale’s pink tongue had delicately fondled the shell, how he’d swallowed hard and licked the brine from his lips. Crowley remembered the little whimpers of pleasure, and how they’d vibrated right through him. Crowley hadn’t cared for the oysters. Disgusting, really. No idea why the humans thought eating them was a good idea. Starvation, probably. But- but- he could watch Aziraphale eat oysters all night. 

Crowley palmed himself harder, his hips pushing up into his own hand. 

‘Let me tempt you…oh, that’s your job, isn’t it?’

Could he? Could he tempt Aziraphale? Was he demon enough for this? Could he tempt Aziraphale into taking Crowley’s prick into his mouth with the same raw hedonistic delight he’d shown downing the oysters? Oh, yes. Yes, he could. He could. And he wouldn’t have to be brutal. He could be clever. Crowley quickly untied his loincloth and threw it on the floor as a delicious scene unfolded in his mind. Crowley had something the other demons lacked, and it was this: imagination. And Crowley allowed that imagination to go into overdrive now. 

Aziraphale liked tasting. He loved putting new and exotic stuff into his perfect mouth. And the Romans ate the most ridiculous things. A blindfold. A blindfold would be the only prop Crowley would need for the temptation of a lifetime, for a temptation that no other demon could imagine let alone attempt.

‘I have a new delicacy for you to taste, Aziraphale,’ Crowley’d say, with a little smile playing about his lips, ‘you need to close your eyes, though. So, you can fully focus on tasting it.’

And oh, Aziraphale would go for that at once, wouldn’t he? Even when Crowley brought out the blindfold, he’d be on board. He’d think it all jolly good fun, in fact. Crowley would tie the blindfold around Aziraphale’s head carefully, ensuring that Aziraphale couldn’t possibly peek out. And then he’d explain, he’d take great care to explain, that this delicacy wasn’t to be bitten. It was to be licked. It was to be sucked. And if you licked and sucked just right, oh, there would be a reward. Aziraphale would wiggle with excitement at that. Course he would. Right up his alley, the idea that he could do something right and be rewarded for it, all while consuming a rare delicate morsel. Oh, yes, it was the perfect hook. 

Stage set, Crowley would carefully undo his loincloth and slip it off. He would push his tunic aside and nudge his prick right up against Aziraphale’s pink lips. And oh, Aziraphale would taste. Course he would. Wouldn’t be able to resist. Aziraphale’s pink tongue would dart out, just as it had done with the oysters. Aziraphale would be trusting, so trusting. He’d fall for Crowley’s clever little plan. Oh, yes. Crowley would tempt into Aziraphale swirling that beautiful little tongue around the head of Crowley’s cock and Aziraphale would enjoy it, he’d savour the salty taste as he did all rare delicacies. 

Crowley shuddered with pleasure as his hand pumped his hard cock furiously, and the lasciviousness of his own imagination rolled him. 

And then, and then… Crowley panted hard as he imagined the next step in the scene. And then…Crowley would tempt Aziraphale further. 

‘Take it into your mouth,’ Crowley would say, deliberately keeping his voice steady, ‘Go on, be a good angel. Swallow it down, carefully now.’ 

And Aziraphale would immediately obey. He’d swallow him down. Of course, he would. Good angel. Such a good angel. He’d want his reward. And he’d suck for it. It wouldn’t take a lot of encouragement for Aziraphale to suck hard, taking Crowley’s prick down to the root. His head would bob on Crowley’s prick as he sucked and licked, searching for his reward. And Crowley would look down at him, he’d watch Aziraphale’s earnest effort and he’d know that he alone had tricked an angel into sucking a demon off. Not just sucking him off but enjoying it. And that wasn’t even the best bit. Because the best bit, the best bit was that all the while Aziraphale would make those little whimpers of pleasure, the ones that vibrated right through Crowley, and… and…

‘Oh…’ Crowley moaned loudly as, with a final pump, with a final push of his hips, he came hard into his own hard. Crowley shuddered as he milked himself with several sure flicks of his wrist, mind filled with the image of Aziraphale hungrily swallowing his ejaculate down, making little moaning noises as he swallowed.  
  
Panting, trembling, Crowley disappeared the mess with a click of his fingers. And, lying awake as dawn began creeping across the sky, Crowley decided that he wasn’t leaving today after all. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Two days later…**

Aziraphale sighed as he walked down the cobble-stone road. He found his mind turning back to that evening at Petronius’s restaurant. He smiled to himself. Then he sighed. How could it be that Aziraphale had more in common with a demon than with all the angels in Heaven? Guilt twisted in Aziraphale’s gut. He shouldn’t think like that. Crowley was a demon.

But Crowley _understood._ He understood what it was like down here. Or up here, from Crowley’s perspective, Aziraphale supposed. More than that, he understood Aziraphale. Suddenly, a memory cut through Aziraphale’s melancholic mood. Oh. Oh dear, he thought as he realised that he had drunkenly confessed something to that effect to the demon himself. Aziraphale’s face warmed at the memory. Well, at least he hadn’t gone too far.

Then he sighed again. Oh, yes, Crowley was the only one who truly understood Aziraphale, as strange as that seemed. And Crowley was long gone. And that meant that Aziraphale was, once again, quite alone.

Aziraphale turned the corner and froze in shock. He broke into a delighted smile as his melancholy dissolved in an instant, ‘Crowley!’

‘Ziraphle!’ Crowley replied as he sauntered over. Aziraphale immediately noticed that at some point in the past two days Crowley had dispensed with the laurel wreath. He had also opted for a different look: a simple black tunic and a more straight forward masculine hairstyle, if a bit on the long side. On the other hand, Crowley had compensated for the base simplicity of his costume by adorning himself with several pieces of Roman-style snake jewellery. The silver bands around his arms were particularly captivating. He looked—Aziraphale’s heart skipped a beat—he looked beautiful. Breathtaking.

‘What are you still doing here?’ Aziraphale asked warmly.

‘Realised there was an opportunity to progress one of my long-term projects,’Crowley drawled, ‘So figured I’d give that a bit of my attention before hitting the road again.’

‘Oh, how lovely,’ Aziraphale enthused.

‘And what are you up to, then?’ Crowley added with a shrug.

‘Well,’ Aziraphale said eyes wide, ‘I was just on my way to visit the loveliest little bathhouse.’

Crowley snorted, ‘Really? Public baths? All the noise? And the people? And the gossip? And the debauchery? Wouldn’t have thought that’ve been your scene.’

‘Oh, no,’ Aziraphale said with a quick shake of his head, ‘no, no, this is a quiet establishment. Exclusive. Private.’

‘Ah,’ Crowley said with a raised eyebrow, ‘sounds more like it. You know, I’ve never been to a bathhouse…’

‘Oh!’ Aziraphale exclaimed, ‘Well, let me tempt you…’ he stopped, mouth falling open, ‘oh dear, I’ve done it again,’ he chuckled nervously, ‘It really is your job.’

‘To tempt you?’ Crowley said, head slanted to one side, carefully taking in Aziraphale’s reaction.

Aziraphale felt his face flush warmly. ‘Y-Yes,’ Aziraphale replied, eyes darting away, ‘I suppose so. Though I suppose, I suppose… it is my job to resist.’

‘To try,’ Crowley said carefully, ‘you can’t win them all. Wouldn’t be sporting of you.’

Aziraphale’s eyes flicked back to Crowley’s. He wished he could see through those damned dark lenses. Could it be Crowley understood this too? Could it be he knew what Aziraphale secretly longed for? And…And…could it be he wanted it too? Aziraphale swallowed hard, ‘No, no I suppose I can’t.’

Things heavy and unsaid weighed down the very air around them. Aziraphale cleared his throat. ‘Well, will you join me in the bathhouse? It is an exclusive establishment, but you’ll be allowed in if you’re with me.’

Crowley nodded, ‘Alright. Lead the way.’

Aziraphale guided Crowley through the streets, to the outskirts of Rome, chatting profusely all the while. Crowley was kind enough to grant him his rapt attention even though Aziraphale knew that he tended to go on a bit and it warmed Aziraphale’s heart. Eventually, they arrived at a small private bathhouse.

‘Well, here we are,’ Aziraphale said as they arrived. He smiled broadly at the young man standing at the door, ‘Salve, Felix.’

‘Salve, Aziraphale,’ Felix answered with a bow and a smile so warm that Aziraphale always knew it was genuine. Good, Aziraphale thought to himself. He liked Felix too.

‘I’ve brought Crowley with me today,’ Aziraphale said, gesturing to Crowley, ‘I do hope that’s alright.’

‘Of course it is,’ Felix said with a smile and a little shake of his head.

‘Salve,’ Crowley threw in with a decided drawl, ‘S’nice place you’ve got here, huh? Exclusive ‘n all that. Didn’t know there were exclusive ones. First time n’ all for me.’

Felix’s eyes flicked to Crowley and he took him in with a quick evaluating gaze, ‘Salve,’ he said with a warm grin. He turned back to Aziraphale and whispered softly, ‘Would you like me to show him the other entrance or is he…?’

‘Oh no, that’s not necessary,’ Aziraphale said with a quick shake of his head, ‘he’ll come in with me.’

Felix smiled again, ‘You are all kindness, Aziraphale. Don’t you go being too soft, now. I, for one, don’t want to see you taken advantage of.’

Crowley snorted.

Aziraphale laughed heartily. Felix was a dear, getting all protective. Little did he know Aziraphale could well and truly take care of himself. ‘Good day Felix,’ he said with a smile as he walked past, entering the building.

‘Good day, Aziraphale,’ Felix replied, adding with a wink, ‘Have fun.’

Crowley followed Aziraphale, Crowley and Felix nodding to each other as he passed. Aziraphale led Crowley through the dimly lit passageway with a little frown on his face.

‘A demon enslaved by an angel,’ Crowley complained with a laugh, ‘that would be a topsy turvy world. Let’s hope Beelzebub doesn’t hear about that. I’d never live it down.’

‘Oh!’ Aziraphale gasped, ‘That’s what he thought,’ he looked Crowley up and down and sighed, ‘yes, well, I can see why he did, now you mention it.’

‘What!’ Crowley cried out indignant, ‘nothing to do with me. It was how you introduced me! You made it sound like I was here to wash you!’

Aziraphale tutted, ‘I’m confident that your attire played a role in Felix’s false conclusion. That, and your hair colour.’

Crowley snorted, ‘Can’t help my hair colour.’

‘No, but you could improve your speech,’ Aziraphale said.

‘I’m speaking Latin fluently!’

‘You’re _drawling_ Latin fluently,’ Aziraphale countered, ‘No one with a decent education does that…’

Crowley rolled his eyes, ‘Whatever. Anyway, he might not have think ‘m your slave. Maybe he thinks you’re paying me for my company,’ Crowley raised his eyebrows meaningfully.

‘Oh!’ Aziraphale gasped again. He shook his head quickly, ‘No. No, no. That’s…no. He couldn’t possibly have thought that.’

Crowley shrugged, ‘Why not?’

Aziraphale felt his cheeks warm. Aziraphale swallowed hard. He mustn’t even begin to think of it. Not in Crowley’s presence. He shook his head quickly, ‘because Felix knows me. He knows I wouldn’t- I wouldn’t ever…’ Aziraphale blustered.

‘Have sex?’ Crowley interrupted.

‘purchase such services...’ Aziraphale finished at the same time.

‘Oh,’ Crowley said, eyes widening, head tilting to one side, giving this answer some consideration. Eventually, he continued with cultivated nonchalance, ‘Well, ‘m sure you have plenty of willing humans quite happy to oblige no fee necessary.’

Aziraphale shook his head quickly, teeth biting into his lower lip, blush deepening. Crowley raised a single eyebrow.

Aziraphale’s eyes darted away and he twisted a finger in his other hand, ‘Well- well- I suppose I do but I also wouldn’t- wouldn’t _ever_ with a human…’

Crowley simply waited, still and silent, and Aziraphale found, despite himself, that he couldn’t resist explaining further, ‘It’s nothing against the humans,’ he added in a rush, ‘It’s just that I couldn’t possibly with anyone I didn’t truly…with anyone who didn’t, who didn’t…’ his voice trailed off again, ‘the thing is for something so intimate I’d want them to actually know me and to… and to…well, I’d want them to know me, to truly know me, and to, and to…’

‘Understand,’ Crowley finished softly.

Aziraphale nodded, eyes fluttering shut. Aziraphale’s face flushed warm anew. Just how much did Crowley understand? He opened his eyes, expecting to find Crowley’s mouth curled in amusement but instead Crowley’s expression was tender and kind.

‘Neither could I,’ Crowley said so softly Aziraphale could barely hear it.

Oh. Aziraphale’s heart skipped a beat. His eyes found Crowley’s, ‘Really?’

‘Yeah,’ Crowley said breathlessly. He cleared his throat. ‘Anyway,’ Crowley added with a shrug, ‘m pretty sure he thinks I’m your slave.’

Aziraphale frowned for a moment, confused about who exactly Crowley was talking about. Oh. Oh. Felix. Aziraphale blew out a long breath. Right. Steady on. He forced himself to turn from Crowley and continue down the passageway, heart thumping in his chest all the while.

Crowley followed and they entered a small room. Two older women were in there, both in the final stages of dressing. Aziraphale nodded and smiled at the two women. They smiled and nodded to them both in return, fetching the last of their belongings and leaving through the same hallway that Aziraphale and Crowley had just walked down. Their previous conversation, and all it’s implications, was still spinning in Aziraphale’s head. He focused on the routine and ritual of the bath to distract himself.

Aziraphale helped himself to two of the cloth skirts provided as well as two sets of special sandals with wooden soles or _sculponea_. ‘Here you go,’ he said, passing one of each to Crowley, still a little rattled. Crowley took the cloth and sandals gingerly.

‘First thing’s first,’ Aziraphale said with faux confidence, ‘We change and leave our belongings in here.’

Crowley nodded and began to disrobe. Aziraphale quickly turned away taking a few deep steadying breaths—hopefully it looked like that was simply part of the relaxation routine for him—and disrobed himself. As he removed his clothes, he discretely slipped the cloth around his waist to cover his nudity. All done, he put his belongings into one of many little cubbyholes in the wall and turned to face Crowley.

Aziraphale found himself taking a sharp intake of breath. Oh. Oh, dear Lord, no. This was a mistake. This was a horrible mistake. Crowley looked more beautiful than anyone had any right to in a little cloth skirt and ridiculous sandals. Aziraphale’s eyes ran up and down Crowley’s long, lithe form, catching on the little tease of hair poking out at the top of the cloth skirt, as ruby red as that on Crowley’s head. Aziraphale swallowed hard and forced himself to meet Crowley’s eyes. And oh. But wasn’t he glad he did? Because that was the best of all. Crowley had taken off those blasted dark glasses and there were those haunting golden eyes, even more beautiful than Aziraphale remembered.

Crowley smiled brightly, ‘what’s next?’

‘Well- well- next we oil ourselves down,’ Aziraphale said, gesturing to wooden benches in the centre of the room.

Crowley raised an eyebrow but made no comment. Aziraphale took a seat on the wooden bench and so did Crowley, sprawling down next to Aziraphale.

Aziraphale picked up the little pot of oil and handed it to Crowley.

‘Alright, then,’ Crowley said, tipping a great pool of golden oil into the palm of his hand and slapping it onto his leg. He worked efficiently, rubbing great gobs of the amber liquid onto his legs, raising the little cloth skirt to rub it into his lean upper thighs. The breath caught in Aziraphale’s throat and he sat mesmerised.

Crowley continued, as if oblivious to the attention that he was receiving, rubbing the oil into his arms and his shoulders with firm, knowing strokes. By the time Aziraphale realised how long he’d been staring, Crowley was nearly finished, only needing to complete rubbing oil onto his own stomach. Oh. Aziraphale thought, forcing himself to turn away, forcing himself to take the jar of oil for himself, oh this was definitely a mistake. When his eyes flicked back to Crowley, a little smile was playing about Crowley’s lips as his hands rubbed the last of the oil into his own stomach.

Aziraphale coughed delicately, ‘Yes, that’s it. You’ve got the idea,’ he said, as if he’d deliberately waited, watching to be certain of Crowley’s technique. Crowley smiled wider. Fiend.

Aziraphale focussed on pouring oil into the palm of his own hand. He started, as he usually did, by rubbing it into his calf muscles. They were sore and tight, as always.

‘Isn’t that my job?’ Crowley said with a grin.

‘What?’ Aziraphale said hoarsely, looking up, meeting Crowley’s golden stare.

‘m your slave, aren’t I?’ Crowley said, arms wide open, grinning further, ‘at least that’s what everyone seems to think. Apparently.’

‘Oh. Oh, there’s really no need to…’ Aziraphale began but Crowley had already poured oil into the palm of his hand and knelt down in front of him. Just the sight of Crowley kneeling before him, warming the golden oil in his hands made Aziraphale lose his train of thought. What was he objecting to again? Crowley smiled softly and reached out. He began to rub it into Aziraphale’s calves, at first with feather light touches and then massaging deeply into the tight muscles, kneading them into submission. Aziraphale groaned in relief. His muscles really were dreadfully tight, and Crowley’s fingers did wonders. Surely there could be no harm in it? It was meant to be good for one’s health. In any case, Aziraphale couldn’t find the strength to say no.

‘Good?’

Aziraphale nodded quickly, biting down on his bottom lip.

‘Good,’ Crowley smiled. He worked slowly and carefully, not just rubbing the oil in but massaging each muscle into submission, coaxing relaxation into Aziraphale’s body. Where he’d worked efficiently on his own body, he took his time with Aziraphale’s, massaging slowly and generously.

Aziraphale sighed. He soon forgot about the inherent awkwardness of the situation, and simply relaxed. Crowley massaged his claves, rubbed down his arms and chest, and forced his shoulders and back to relax at last. Aziraphale felt every worry evaporate under Crowley’s tender touch. Then, as if saving it for last, Crowley returned to Aziraphale’s legs, hands slipping up under the cloth skirt a little, to massage the very top of Aziraphale’s ample thighs.

Aziraphale, now fully relaxed, moaned loudly. Then he realised with a terrifying jolt that his pleasure was not entirely a relaxed kind of pleasure anymore. It was heated. Desire had begun to pool. In fact, desire had begun to pool horrifyingly close to Crowley’s hand. Aziraphale gasped and quickly stilled Crowley’s hand, ‘That’s enough,’ he said hoarsely.

Crowley’s head tilted to one side. ‘S’alright, you know,’ he said softly, his golden eyes wide.

Aziraphale swallowed hard, his own eyes darting away, unable to bare the gaze, unable to bare the understanding he found there. It was exactly what he wanted and yet, all too much. Crowley was a demon. Aziraphale mustn’t, he really mustn’t. He couldn’t go _too_ far.

‘Now the bath?’ Crowley said softly.

‘What?’ Aziraphale choked out, ‘Oh, not- not quite yet. Usually people take a little exercise next. Or read,’ Aziraphale smiled coyly, ‘I confess I usually read. They have a delightful little library here.’

Crowley snorted, ‘You aren’t tempting me with that, ‘Ziraphale.’

Aziraphale smiled, ‘I suppose not. Well, then, we’d better remove the dirt and then we can move on to the baths.’

Aziraphale picked up a long, curved metal instrument and showed Crowley the proper technique, explaining, ‘We use the strigil like this to remove the dirt,’ he said, scraping down his own leg.

Crowley nodded and took a strigil for himself, ‘Alright then.’

They both scraped carefully at their own skin with the strigil, in silent contemplation. The very air felt thick with unspoken need. Aziraphale wondered if they were, at last, approaching a precipice.

‘Now the bath?’ Crowley asked as they put the strigil away.

Aziraphale nodded, ‘The tepidarium, the warm room first. To adjust.’

Crowley nodded, ‘lead the way then.’

Aziraphale took Crowley into the tepidarium. The room contained a large warm pool. The room was low-lit, a gentle and soft glow dancing across the water and lighting up the artwork painted directly on the walls and ceiling. Two men, one in his fifties and one barely a man at all sat together on the other side of the pool. Aziraphale smiled and nodded to them in greeting. He did not know them. They smiled back and stepped out the pool, striding naked out of the room towards the room with the hottest bath, leaving Aziraphale and Crowley quite alone.

Aziraphale turned discretely away from Crowley as he slipped off his own cloth skirt and stepped into the bath, only turning back when he was certain that Crowley had entered the bath too.

Aziraphale sighed contentedly. It was quiet and calm and blissful. Crowley sprawled out in the bath and sighed, ‘This is relaxing, I’ll give you that.’

‘Hm,’ Aziraphale answered, eyes fluttering closed, ‘and it is always so lovely and quiet here.’

Crowley snorted. ‘Yes, I can see how people would ruin this for you.’

Aziraphale frowned a little, eyes still closed, ‘that isn’t exactly what I said.’

Crowley snorted again and splashed Aziraphale’s face gently.

‘Oh!’ Aziraphale cried out, eyes opening, water glistening on his eyelashes, ‘you fiend.’ He splashed Crowley in return. Crowley splashed back. Aziraphale splashed again, quite forcefully this time—Crowley’s hair, now thoroughly wet deepened in tone becoming a deep crimson. Crowley immediately matched him, covering Aziraphale in a wave of water. Aziraphale coughed and spluttered, but a moment later latent instincts kicked in.

Aziraphale reached out and grabbed hold of Crowley, taking his shoulders in hand—fingers digging in hard—and trying to forcefully submerge the demon. Crowley laughed—seemingly delighted by the manhandling—and Aziraphale gripped all the harder as the demon struggled under him. Aziraphale chuckled, and panting from the exertion, tried harder to keep his grip and to push him under. He began to gain the advantage but…Oh! Oh! Aziraphale felt his body respond, felt desire pooling and his penis hardening. Mortified, he quickly let go and sat back on the bench, hands discretely folded in front of his half-hard cock.

‘Sorry, Crowley,’ he said shamefully, hoping desperately that Crowley hadn’t noticed the beginnings of his erection, ‘I shouldn’t have grabbed you. I don’t know what I was thinking.’

‘Having fun, I think. S’all good,’ Crowley said with an amused chuckle, ‘you’re meant to wrestle me into submission, aren’t you?’

Aziraphale blew out a long breath. Maybe Crowley hadn’t noticed his physical response. Surely not. No. No he mustn’t have. He shook his head and tried to put it out of his mind. ‘I’m not sure that is quite what Heaven has in mind when they give those kinds of directives.’

Crowley snorted, ‘pity.’

Aziraphale’s eyes widened at this. Crowley smiled and winked and, once again, Aziraphale couldn’t bare it. He looked away. Aziraphale closed his eyes and tried to deliberately regain the relaxation he’d felt just moments ago. As he breathed deep breaths he noticed, from the movement and sounds of the water, that Crowley moved away and began to swim up and down the pool.

Aziraphale opened his eyes to watch. Crowley’s body glistened as he moved through the water, his movements smooth and sure, reminding Aziraphale of his serpentine nature. After several laps, Crowley lay on his back, floating in the middle of the pool, like a starfish. His red hair spread out around his head like a dark crimson crown, and his penis was on shocking display, in a little crimson bed of its own. Aziraphale drank it all in, trying very hard not to be too obvious about it.

‘I think it’s better without all the people too, for the record,’ Crowley said from his starfish position, staring up at the ceiling.

‘Oh?’ Aziraphale replied, only half listening, still staring at Crowley’s naked form.

‘Uh-ha’ Crowley answered.

The warm water lapped around Aziraphale’s body, caressing him, warming his skin, warming his core, coaxing his body into relaxation, as Crowley’s hands had done before. Aziraphale began to relax again, but he kept his hands still discretely over his crotch—the damn thing was still a little hard, how could it not be with Crowley on display before him—and let the warmth of the water soothe him. He sighed. The water caressed him, as if little waves were washing gently over his body, lapping at his muscles.

The warm water felt quite nice indeed against a particular stubbornly hard region. Aziraphale bit his lower lip and looked across to Crowley—surely, he hadn’t noticed? — but Crowley was lying back, floating, looking at the ceiling above.

‘The artwork ‘S nice,’ Crowley said.

‘Ye-yes,’ Aziraphale answered carefully. The warmth of the water continued caressing him in a most intimate way. Was the warmth of the water always so… intimate? But, of course, Aziraphale reasoned, he’d never been half-hard at the baths before. And he’d never had a naked Crowley to look at during his bath. He should have anticipated these side effects.

Aziraphale closed his eyes and took several deep breaths—determinedly keeping up the appearance that he was relaxing—and willed his penis to soften. The water didn’t help. It seemed to lap persistently along his testicles, and then along the length of his cock. Not only did his penis fail to soften, the damned thing hardened further, until Aziraphale was sporting a full erection hidden under his discretely folded hands. The water continued its teasing, like a million little warm tongues. Aziraphale bit his bottom lip hard. This is ridiculous, he thought to himself, I must be going mad. It’s just a bath. I’m so crazy with lust I’m imagining all kinds of nonsense.

‘S relaxing, the warmth,’ Crowley drawled, his voice causing a shiver to run down Aziraphale’s spine.

‘Er y-yes,’ Aziraphale replied tightly, biting down on his lower lip. You have no idea, he thought, as the warmth seemed to curl around his hard length, rather like, rather like a hand, a warm hand. Rather like Crowley’s hand might feel. Aziraphale made a little whimpering noise. Then he coughed to mask it. ‘Yes ye-yes, very relaxing,’ he choked out.

‘The warmth,’ Crowley repeated, and once again his voice caused Aziraphale to shudder.

‘Hm,’ Aziraphale said as the warmth curling around his cock seemed to tug gently at it. Oh. Oh no. What was wrong with him? It was like one of those dreams. Those ridiculous dreams that used to haunt him, making him wake all sticky and ashamed. This was why he avoided sleep. This was why he hadn’t slept in thousands of years. It made it to hard to deny the strength of feelings that he had for a certain demon.

But Aziraphale wasn’t asleep now. He was wide awake and so crazed with lust for Crowley and he had utterly lost control of his secret desires. Aziraphale considered a hasty retreat. But it was impossible. Stepping out of the bath, like this? His debauchery would be apparent immediately, and Crowley, being a demon, would immediately take advantage. Aziraphale shuddered. Oh, he shouldn’t like that thought so very much.

‘Pulls the stress right out of you,’ Crowley said softly and Aziraphale, eyes still closed, could hear the smile, could feel the words brush gently against his ear like a kiss. The warmth tugged persistently and skilfully at his cock. Oh. A groan escaped from Aziraphale’s lips.

What was, what was… Crowley had just said something important. Aziraphale desperately tried to figure out what it was but his mind, usually so sharp, was cloudy with pleasure, delirious with wanton need. And oh, the little licking sensation was back, tickling delightfully along his balls and perineum while the warm water gripped his hard cock and tightly pulled. Aziraphale choked back on another moan. What the devil was wrong with him? Crowley would- Crowley would- he would hear, and the demon would take advantage of…of…

Oh! Another little breathless moan escaped. Oh. Oh. Aziraphale’s mind finally had it, just as the warmth of the water tugging at his cock began to pick up speed in a most delicious way. Oh, the licking sensation, the tugging the warm water lapping over him… he knew what was happening, what was causing this. It was… it was…had to be…and that meant…it was…it was…

‘Crowley!’ Aziraphale cried out as he spilled into the warm water. He shuddered with bliss, as the orgasm rolled him, panting and gasping for breath. And then he continued to shudder with embarrassment, mortified at what he’d done. But Crowley, Crowley had… he _must_ have…

Nervously, Aziraphale opened his eyes. He saw Crowley still lying on the water like a starfish, sporting a sizeable erection that he was making absolutely no effort to cover. Crowley lifted his hand and clicked his fingers. Aziraphale’s ejaculate instantly disappeared from the water. Aziraphale cringed.

‘I like the stars,’ Crowley said with deliberate calm, ‘on the ceiling, I mean, ‘S a nice touch.’

‘What?’ Aziraphale gulped, eyebrows twisting together, barely comprehending the words.

Crowley pointed up, ‘the painting, ‘Ziraphale. Though it’d have been better if they’d gotten the constellations right. It’s a night sky but it isn’t _the_ night sky, you know.’

Aziraphale’s eyes darted up to the ceiling. Little painted stars dotted the dark blue ceiling. In the low light, they almost seemed to glow. He swallowed hard, ‘I-I suppose it isn’t.’

‘Hm,’ Crowley said, ‘still, ‘S nice. Relaxing.’

Aziraphale’s mind whirled. Had he imagined it all? Had he experienced some kind of strange waking dream? His eyes darted from the ceiling back to Crowley. And, no, he wasn’t imagining any of it. Crowley was still sporting an erection, plain as anything. Aziraphale couldn’t understand it. He couldn’t understand what had happened. He couldn’t understand any of it. Crowley must have manipulated the water, made it touch Aziraphale as it had done. Aziraphale gulped hard, and… and… Crowley had given Aziraphale the first orgasm he had experienced in thousands of years, the first orgasm he’d experienced awake. Aziraphale shivered.

But, why? Crowley wasn’t demanding anything for himself. Aziraphale was as helpless as he’d ever been before him, his most secret desire—his desire for Crowley—laid out before him. And Crowley, a demon, wasn’t taking advantage at all. Far from it! Crowley seemed determined to discretely pretend nothing had happened at all. Well, except for his erection. He wasn’t being discrete about that. So, he must have enjoyed it. Mustn’t he? More than that. Crowley must want Aziraphale to know that he had enjoyed it. But why? Did that not decrease his own advantage?

Crowley stretched and began to swim again. As Crowley did a few more laps Aziraphale watched him— Crowley really was a terribly beautiful swimmer—and kept puzzling it over. Eventually, Crowley swam up to Aziraphale and suggested that it was time to move to the next room. Aziraphale nodded and led him there, noting that Crowley’s erection had subsided. Aziraphale couldn’t decide how he felt about that. He wondered and frowned the whole time they were in the caldarium, the hot bath, warmed by a brazier under the flooring. And he was still frowning over it in the frigidarium, the cold bath.

Aziraphale hardly knew what to say. Fortunately, Crowley didn’t seem to expect much in the way of good conversation. Crowley led the conversation some of the time, coaxing replies out of Aziraphale. At other times Crowley allowed them to lapse into a bizarrely comfortable silence.

Aziraphale was grateful for the frigidarium. The cold water brought him back to himself, cleared his head of some of the confusion. He had tried for so long to resist his feelings for Crowley. How was it that in all of Heaven and Earth and Hell the being who understood Aziraphale the most was a demon? And, now it had happened. He has succumbed. He had been taken. And here he was, seemingly the same as before, and here Crowley was seemingly the same as before. And as the frigidarium brought some clarity to Aziraphale’s thoughts, he found that he was increasingly ashamed of how he had treated Crowley. Aziraphale had spoken true before, he couldn’t have experienced that with someone who didn’t understand. Crowley understood. And he had selflessly given. And Aziraphale, he had just selfishly taken without so much as an acknowledgement. Had he taken advantage of Crowley?

They returned to the original room to rub fragrant oils over their bodies and change back into their clothes. Crowley rubbed the oil over his own body silently. Aziraphale chewed as his bottom lip, brow furrowed, torn up inside, desperately wanting to reach out and touch. Would Crowley like that? Could Aziraphale bring him pleasure, could he wring an orgasm out of that perfectly tempting body? Aziraphale warred within. Finally, as he pulled his tunic into place, something inside broke and gave way, ‘I’m sorry,’ Aziraphale blurted out in a rush.

Crowley turned around, mid-way through slipping his final piece of snake jewellery on, ‘Sorry for what, angel?’

Aziraphale cleared his throat awkwardly as a deep red blush spread across his cheeks. He bit his lip and wrung his hands together not quite knowing himself what he was about say until it rolled out, ‘I-I’ve been terribly selfish.’

‘Oh,’ Crowley snorted. He shook his head, ‘I guess. But S’alright. Got more than I ever expected, to be honest. Anyway, there was never any obligation attached.’

Aziraphale grimaced at the quiet dismissal of Crowley’s own needs, ‘No,’ he said firmly, ‘no. It’s not alright.’

‘It’s not? Why not?’ Crowley said, golden eyes wide.

‘Because- because I’d like to…I want to…’ Aziraphale sighed, frustrated at his own inability to be frank, ‘I _want_ to reciprocate… I have wanted it for so long…’

‘Oh!’ Crowley grinned widely, ‘Oh, well, let’s say there’ll be a next time, then. Can’t be selfish if there’s a next time, can it?’

‘No,’ Aziraphale said with a little shake of his head as the knot inside loosened. He chuckled, ‘no, I suppose not.’

Crowley smiled. ‘How often do you come to the baths here then?’ Crowley said, running his hand over his neck.

‘Daily, I come daily,’ Aziraphale replied.

‘Tomorrow then,’ Crowley said with a little smile, ‘and if you want, you can reciprocate. Or whatever you like really. Happy to be a little more um… direct with you if you like…whatever you want…’ he shrugged, cheeks pinking up.

Aziraphale swallowed hard, as all the things he’d like to do to Crowley poured into his head. He could bite that shoulder, nibble on the constellations of freckles there. He could kiss that mouth. He took take that perfect erection into his mouth and suck it down. Aziraphale shuddered.

Crowley raised an eyebrow like he knew exactly what Aziraphale was thinking. He cleared his throat, ‘In the meantime, can I tempt you to some dinner?’

‘Yes,’ Aziraphale said with a relieved sigh, ‘Oh, yes. It’s your job, isn’t it?’

‘So, I hear,’ Crowley said with a grin. 


	3. Chapter 3

Aziraphale paced nervously outside the baths, his hands twisting in front and his sandals making a hard clomp on the stone road with every anxious step. His eyes darted around, watching the same road for signs of Crowley. He bit his lip and chided himself for arriving so early. He had known that it would just mean a tortuous wait and indeed, he had been proven correct. But he had been helpless to resist. Aziraphale looked out to the road again, eyes scanning the crowd for that glint of red hair. A glint that, Aziraphale knew would make his stomach flop and his heart race.

‘Aziraphale?’ a familiar voice called out from behind him.

Aziraphale turned quickly, startled out of his increasingly heated train of thought. He swallowed and smiled coyly, ‘Oh. Felix,’ he cleared his throat, ‘Salve.’

‘Salve, Aziraphale,’ Felix replied with a heartfelt grin, ‘are you visiting the baths today?’

‘Yes,’ Aziraphale said with a little nod, ‘I will be, yes. I’m just… I’m just waiting for- for someone.’

‘Ah,’ Felix replied with an insightful nod, ‘your companion, from yesterday. Crowley, was it?’

Aziraphale nodded and his eyes darted back out to the road, immediately returning to their determined search.

Felix chuckled and shook his head. ‘That good, was he?’

Aziraphale looked back with widening eyes, a delicate pink blush warming his cheeks. Aziraphale was not that quick on the uptake. He wasn’t ashamed to admit it. But he understood Felix perfectly. Apparently, Crowley had been quite correct about the nature of Felix’s assumptions. Aziraphale’s mouth opened and closed several times before he managed to splutter out, ‘I can’t imagine what you are implying, Felix. Crowley is a friend. A very dear friend.’

Felix laughed again, all the harder this time. ‘Very dear,’ he repeated, ‘Oh, so it’s like that, is it? I didn’t realise hearts were involved. Oh, Aziraphale, you’ve got it bad.’

Aziraphale’s blush deepened—a hot, red stain across his cheeks betraying his most secret feelings—and he fiddled with his toga awkwardly.

Felix saw Aziraphale’s discomfort and he immediately swallowed back his laugh. ‘I’m sorry, Aziraphale,’ he said, ‘I shouldn’t tease. We’ve all been there. Forgive me?’ he added with his hands raised up defensively.

Aziraphale sighed deeply. He forced down his discomfort with the kind of skill that comes from constant practice. He painted a smile on his face and nodded angelically. ‘Of course,’ he said. Duty done, Aziraphale turned back to the road. His eyes, once again, scanned the crowd for Crowley. But Felix didn’t move away. After a little while, Felix cleared his throat.

‘If it is any comfort,’ Felix said softly, ‘I think he feels the same way. He looks at you like you were descended from Jupiter himself.’

‘Really?’ Aziraphale cried out, a delighted smile bursting upon his face before he could stop it. Belatedly catching himself, he tried his best to twist his mouth into a more typical position. Really, what a ridiculous reaction, he chided himself. And to a sentiment so blasphemously expressed!

‘Ah-ha,’ Felix continued with a little knowing smile, ‘Cupid hit the mark with Crowley, that’s for sure.’

Aziraphale sighed in relief, comforted by Felix’s blasphemous opinions despite himself. ‘Well that’s- that’s good to know,’ he smiled genuinely, ‘Thank-you, Felix.’

‘Anytime,’ Felix replied, not waiting a beat before adding, ‘And do clean up after yourselves, won’t you? The number of times I’ve had to scrub ejaculate off the walls and the floor,’ he shook his head, ‘even one time off the ceiling would you believe…’

Aziraphale grimaced, his nose scrunching up, ‘yes, yes,’ he said very definitely, ‘thank-you, Felix.’

Felix nodded and walked away, stepping back into his position at the entrance.

Aziraphale continued to eye the road, twisting his toga in his fingers and fondling Felix’s words in his mind. At last, at long last he spotted a familiar mess of red hair and indeed, his stomach flopped, and his heart raced.

‘Alright, angel?’ Crowley drawled with a sideways grin and a wink as he approached. 

Aziraphale swallowed hard and his insides instantly felt like a slithering mass of snakes. Aziraphale appreciated the irony. Crowley’s outfit was like the day before: a simple black tunic adorned with silver snake jewellery. Good Lord, how was he so beautiful? Aziraphale’s eyes darted away shyly.

‘Well, shall we?’ Aziraphale managed to splutter out.

Crowley nodded, smiling widely.

‘Salve, Crowley,’ Felix said with a grin, ‘Visiting our establishment again already?’

Crowley snorted and turned to look at Aziraphale before answering. Even with the dark glasses, it was clear that Crowley’s eyes were on Aziraphale for every word, ‘Couldn’t keep away, Felix.’

‘You enjoyed the baths then, I take it?’ Felix countered.

Crowley looked back to Felix and declared dramatically, ‘Surpassed my wildest dreams.’

Felix looked to Aziraphale, ‘Well, that is a compliment, isn’t it?’ He raised a single eyebrow, ‘though, truth be told, I’m not sure it is a compliment to the baths.’

Aziraphale blushed warmly and beamed despite himself as Crowley chuckled at his side.

‘Th- thank-you, Felix,’ Aziraphale stuttered.

Felix bowed and let them both in, ‘Have fun!’

Aziraphale and Crowley walked down the dark corridor in silence. Each footstep echoed and every breath seemed to come in a shaking gasp. Aziraphale worried at his lip and willed himself to hold it together. After what seemed like an age, they came to the first room. It was the room in which they were to undress, Aziraphale reminded himself—a wild and heated thought in and of itself just at the moment—and Aziraphale found himself spinning around to look at Crowley intending to blurt out something, though what exactly he could not say. Probably something remarkably foolish.

‘Before you say anything, Aziraphale,’ Crowley said with care, the flirtatious humour he’d shown conversing with Felix outside long gone, ‘it’s whatever you want, alright? No obligation.’

‘I want to reciprocate,’ Aziraphale replied fiercely.

Crowley slipped off his dark glasses, and Aziraphale’s pulse quickened at the sight. Crowley’s eyes were already golden all the way to the edge. Beautiful.

‘And you can,’ Crowley replied, ‘Whatever you want, angel. That’s what I mean,’ he paused and licked his lips, ‘There’s- there’s- nothing you can’t do,’ he added hoarsely. He shuddered slightly.

Aziraphale’s eyes widened as it hit him. ‘Oh,’ he gasped, ‘Oh! You’re nervous too.’

‘What? No!’ Crowley immediately countered. He frowned, ‘Shuddup.’ 

Aziraphale beamed, utterly delighted by the unexpected discovery and its quick confirmation. Crowley was nervous. Aziraphale had made Crowley nervous.

‘I mean it, shuddup!’ Crowley growled, entirely without any real menace.

Aziraphale chuckled. Crowley, acting on instinct, sprung forward and grabbed Aziraphale’s wrists, pinning him against the wall.

‘Oh!’ Aziraphale gasped at once, laughter long forgotten, as he was immediately hypnotised by Crowley’s golden eyes. Crowley too seemed to forget what he was doing and why.

Aziraphale’s gaze fell from Crowley’s eyes to his lips. He licked his own and whispered, ‘nothing I can’t do?’

‘Nothing…’ Crowley choked out.

They leaned in as one, lips brushing gently, ever so gently. Aziraphale whimpered and leaned closer, pressing his lips to Crowley’s more firmly as he opened his mouth hungry for a taste. But his teeth hit against Crowley’s with a clunk and he pulled back in shame.

‘S’alright,’ Crowley whispered tenderly as he brushed his fingertips along Aziraphale’s face comfortingly. Aziraphale felt his shame recede in the face of such tenderness. ‘S’alright,’ Crowley whispered again as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Aziraphale’s. This time mouth met mouth with no clashing of teeth, and though it was messy and inexperienced, it was good. It was so very good.

Aziraphale’s mouth again opened hungrily, and Crowley’s tongue darted right in. Aziraphale moaned at the breach and clutched at Crowley’s lean arms, pulling him closer. Aziraphale dipped his own tongue into the warmth of Crowley’s mouth and found it welcomed with a low groan. It was so much better than anything Aziraphale had ever imagined. It was so much better than any of his heated, sticky dreams. He could feel his own body quickly respond, heat pooling down below. Crowley pressed himself against Aziraphale, heated body to heated body, and Aziraphale gasped as he felt Crowley’s own erection press into his thigh. Aziraphale immediately pushed forward, overcome with desire, swamped by need, rubbing his own erection into Crowley wantonly, too desperately aroused to feel ashamed of himself.

‘Hmmm…’ Crowley moaned between breathless kisses, ‘angel…’

‘Oh, would you look at these two,’ a woman’s loud and piercing voice rang through the room, ‘can’t even wait to get their clothes off.’

Aziraphale and Crowley sprang apart in an instant, to see two middle-aged women in the room with them. The first woman—the one with the loud and piercing voice Aziraphale quickly realised—tutted disapprovingly but the second giggled and blushed, ‘you shouldn’t have stopped them,’ she said to her companion.

The first woman rolled her eyes.

Aziraphale cleared his throat, hands discretely over the front of his robe, attempting to hide the telling bump, ‘Salve, ladies. We were just…well…’

‘We know what you were doing,’ the second woman giggled, as she fastened her sandals.

The first woman shook her head as she snapped her jewellery in place, ‘And I can assure you, I get quite enough of that at home. I don’t need an eyeful of it when I come to the baths.’

The second woman giggled again, ‘she really does.’

Crowley nodded, ‘Right, well,’ he cleared his throat, ‘thank-you, ladies.’

The women nodded and left, the second woman still giggling.

Crowley and Aziraphale looked at each other—eyes meeting across the room—and immediately burst into fits of laughter.

‘Well,’ Aziraphale gasped, as he caught his breath, ‘that was embarrassing.’

Crowley clicked his fingers, and widened his eyes meaningfully, ‘no more interruptions.’

Aziraphale swallowed thickly. He licked his suddenly dry lips. ‘What’s…what’s next?’

Crowley raised an eyebrow, ‘We disrobe, angel. Rub the oil in, remember?’

Aziraphale’s eyes flicked to the pots of golden oil, ‘Oh, oh right… of course.’

By the time he had turned back to Crowley, Crowley was already disrobing. Aziraphale froze at the sight. Crowley lifted his arms and slipped the black tunic off over his head in one swift movement. Then he deftly undid his loincloth and let it fall to the floor. His cock, still half-hard, bounced invitingly in front.

Aziraphale swallowed hard at the sight—oh, how he longed to touch—and forced his eyes to shift away.

‘Doin’ whatever you want includes lookin’ Crowley said, as he slipped off his jewellery, putting his belongings into one of the cubbyholes.

Aziraphale nodded, but he didn’t turn back. Instead, he began to disrobe himself, his back to Crowley. Only when he’d—hands shaking—slipped the little cloth discretely around himself, did Aziraphale turn back. Aziraphale wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed by the fact that Crowley was also discretely covered. Crowley smiled and gestured for Aziraphale to sit on the bench as he picked up the jar of oil. Aziraphale nodded and sat primly, hands clutching at the side of the bench.

Crowley poured the golden liquid into one hand and rubbed his hands together, warming the oil. He knelt beside Aziraphale and, as he had done the other day, he began by massaging the tightness out of Aziraphale’s calves. Aziraphale bit his lip and groaned.

‘You’re tight again,’ Crowley commented as his fingers dug into the muscle.

Aziraphale nodded slowly.

‘Hm,’ Crowley murmured, ‘Never mind. I’ll soon have you sorted.’ He smiled a little sideways smile and Aziraphale’s heart thudded in his chest.

Crowley took Aziraphale’s body in the same order as he had the day before—calves first, then the upper body including shoulders, chest and arms—spreading oil across skin and massaging tight muscles into submission. Aziraphale could feel his own body loosen, becoming pliant and relaxed under Crowley’s touch. He sighed and moaned as Crowley worked him.

Eventually, Crowley returned to kneeling, and poured more oil on his hands. Aziraphale bit his lip in anticipation. Crowley’s hands pressed down on Aziraphale’s upper thighs, carefully massaging the generous flesh, moving steadily upward, hand slipping under the cloth skirt. As it had done the day before, Aziraphale felt his own desire pool, as relaxation was replaced with desire. Crowley kneaded the soft flesh of Aziraphale’s inner thighs, hands brushing steadily closer to where Aziraphale’s growing desire manifested in undeniable physicality. Crowley’s fingers turned from tender massages into feather-light touches as he brushed against the seam between Aziraphale’s thigh and his torso. Close, so close. Aziraphale, panting hard, fell forward onto Crowley’s shoulders.

‘Oh, Crowley, that’s…’ Aziraphale’s whisper turned into a gasp as Crowley’s fingers brushed against his testicles.

‘That alright, angel?’ Crowley said softly, a hint of a waver in his voice.

Aziraphale bit down hard on his lip and nodded, still leaning on Crowley’s shoulder, breathing in the sweet scent of him with every shuddering breath.

Crowley took Aziraphale’s testicles in hand, cupping them gently. Aziraphale felt his desire, already burning, spike sharply at the illicit touch. He heard a wanton shaky moan and realised with a start that it was his own voice.

Crowley rolled his balls around tenderly and Aziraphale whimpered at the sweet teasing pleasure of it. Crowley continued and continued, gentle cupping and feather-light touches, as Aziraphale whimpered and gasped. Aziraphale’s erection, as yet still untouched, throbbed and strained beneath the cloth. Just when Aziraphale thought he might be reduced to begging, just when he thought the pleasure was beginning to be unbearably cruel, Crowley took Aziraphale in hand, wrapping his hand around Aziraphale’s achingly hard cock. Aziraphale was reminded of the day before, of the water that felt like Crowley’s hand, and now, now it was Crowley’s actual hand—the hot flesh of him—wrapped around his cock, stroking with a sure rhythm, finger brushing over the head just so. 

Aziraphale nuzzled into Crowley’s shoulder, kissing and then—seized by some mad instinct— biting the perfect constellation of freckles there. Crowley made a choked-out noise that burned through Aziraphale and picked up speed. Each stroke was maddening. Crowley gripped him firmly, but his hands were oiled and slick. Close. Closer. Aziraphale could feel his release approaching. He puffed hard into Crowley’s neck as bliss hovered deliciously out of reach.

‘Oh, Crowley…’ Aziraphale whimpered.

‘Go on, angel,’ Crowley whispered, ‘I’ve got you…’

Aziraphale shuddered and came hard into Crowley’s hand with a low moan. Crowley continued his steady strokes, helping Aziraphale to ride out the ecstasy to the very end.

Aziraphale slumped over Crowley’s shoulder, temporarily exhausted by it all. Crowley clicked his fingers and disappeared the white sticky ejaculate, wrapping his arms around Aziraphale and kissing the top of his head softly. The soft kiss prompted Aziraphale to move, waking him from whatever blissful trance he’d been in. Tears prickling at his eyes, Aziraphale looked at Crowley who was still kneeling in front of him with something like reverence. Aziraphale had been gifted something scared. And he knew it. ‘Thank-you,’ Aziraphale whispered, ‘Thank-you so much.’

‘Anytime, angel,’ Crowley replied hoarsely.

Aziraphale cleared his throat. ‘I do believe it is your turn for the oil.’

Crowley raised an eyebrow, ‘No obligations, remember.’

Aziraphale tutted, ‘Would you cut out your nonsense and get on the bench, please? You are quite spoiling my fun.’

Crowley snorted and sat obediently on the bench. Aziraphale couldn’t avoid noticing the bulge in the cloth around Crowley’s middle. Aziraphale took a deep breath to steady himself. As Crowley had done, he poured a little oil into one hand and warmed it with the other. He put hands on Crowley—oh to touch that flesh—beginning with his calf muscles. Crowley looked down at Aziraphale with tense attention. As Aziraphale spread the oil across Crowley’s body Crowley’s brow furrowed and he whimpered softly, as if he were concentrating on keeping still louder moans in. Aziraphale smiled as he realised that Crowley found it harder to mask his own nerves from his current position. He could not put on his usual swagger. Aziraphale was delighted.

‘Relax, dear boy,’ Aziraphale whispered, as he massaged Crowley’s shoulders.

Crowley pursed his lips and nodded.

Aziraphale’s fingers explored hungrily, touching pale skin dotted with freckles, counting the constellations, joining the dots. His massage technique wasn’t as skilled as Crowley’s he knew but he touched freely, fingers trailing over skin, hands kneading in. He was persistent, and slowly, carefully, Crowley opened up to him, relaxing, becoming pliant under his touch, allowing himself a low moan of pleasure.

Aziraphale smiled as he knelt in front of Crowley again, taking the oil and rubbing it into Crowley’s thighs, hands moving steadily upward, to where Crowley’s erection nudged at the straining cloth. Crowley bit his lower lip. But Aziraphale did not reach for Crowley’s cock or testicles. Instead, he pushed the cloth skirt fully up, revealing all of Crowley. Crowley hissed reflexively. Aziraphale focused on the sight of Crowley’s newly revealed cock—hard and pink with need—and he licked his lips hungrily. He leaned down and kissed Crowley’s inner thigh, a tender little kiss against the white flesh.

Crowley jolted, cock bouncing.

‘Is this alright?’ Aziraphale asked, mouth still close to Crowley’s thigh, hot breath tickling against Crowley’s skin.

‘Yessss,’ Crowley hissed, ‘Anything you want.’

‘But do you? Do you want it?’ Aziraphale countered. He had to be sure.

‘Yesss. Fuck yesss. Pleassse.’ Crowley choked out.

Aziraphale leaned back down, shuffling in between Crowley’s knees and began to kiss at the inner thighs with relish. He kissed and licked hungrily, tongue sliding over the oiled flesh. Crowley keened, and clutched at the bench. Aziraphale moved on to Crowley’s testicles, licking them gently, savouring them like he would a delicacy, then taking them into his mouth carefully and taking every pleasure at the feel and the taste. Mouth still wrapped around Crowley’s balls, Aziraphale moaned softly.

Crowley clutched onto the bench harder, ‘Oh fuck. Oh fuck, yessss.’

Aziraphale slipped the testicles out of his mouth and licked a long, tender line down Crowley’s cock, tasting the drop of salty liquid that had bloomed at the very tip. It tasted good and Aziraphale sighed. He licked his lips, ‘delicious.’

Crowley made an incomprehensible noise, and clutched harder at the bench, knuckles white with the effort of it.

Aziraphale could deny himself no longer. He took Crowley’s cock into his mouth. At first, he took in just the tip, rolling his tongue around it, exploring it fully.

‘Ngh,’ Crowley choked out as Aziraphale continued to lick the tip, swirling his tongue.

Tip thoroughly explored, another tiny bead of salty fluid relinquished from its depths to Aziraphale’s tongue, Aziraphale swallowed Crowley’s erection down and sucked on it hard, moaning as he did so.

Crowley cried out wantonly, quickly following the cry with a desperate, ‘Ziraphale, I’m…I’m…’

Aziraphale gripped onto Crowley forcefully, fingers pressing into Crowley’s bony hip stopping him from pulling away and he sucked all the harder, moaned all the louder.

Crowley let out another wild cry as Aziraphale found sweet reward for his efforts. Crowley’s cock pulsed in his mouth, filling it with warm salty liquid. Aziraphale swallowed it down rapturously like it was sweet ambrosia. When Crowley was spent, Aziraphale slipped his softening cock out and licked the last of the precious fluid from the tip. He looked up to see Crowley was staring down at him, looking drunk and disorientated. Aziraphale smiled, knowing that he had managed to pick Crowley apart, to strip away every façade and see into his very soul. Perhaps Felix was right. Perhaps the fullness of Aziraphale’s feelings were reciprocated after all. Seeing Crowley in that very moment, Aziraphale could almost believe it.

‘Fuck,’ Crowley whispered, ‘that was…’ his voice trailed off and his brow furrowed as he tried to find the word. Presumably, he never did, for instead he leaned forward and kissed Aziraphale, a kiss that he quickly and hungrily deepened as he tasted his own seed in Aziraphale’s mouth. Aziraphale kissed back until Crowley had had his fill.

Then, with great care, Aziraphale took a strigil and scraped the oil off Crowley. Crowley watched him all the while, eyes wide in disbelief. As Aziraphale finished Crowley’s body he sat on the bench and readied to do his own.

‘Don’t you dare,’ Crowley growled, taking the strigil from Aziraphale’s hands and doing the job himself, kneeling before Aziraphale again. Task complete, Crowley returned the strigil and took Aziraphale’s hand in his own. They walked to the tepidarium, the warm room, in comfortable silence and hand in hand. They found it blissfully empty. Crowley slipped his cloth off and helped Aziraphale to do the same. After what they had just done, the nudity felt natural and right. Aziraphale no longer felt the urge to hide or any need to look away.

They entered the pool together, Crowley immediately taking Aziraphale in his arms in the warm, embracing waters. They sat for a time, in each other’s arms, embraced by the warmth, in silent contentment. Aziraphale closed his eyes and sighed, as Crowley stroked his back. Warm and tender minutes slipped by. Aziraphale opened his eyes and looked up at Crowley. He smiled and Crowley smiled right back.

Crowley leaned forward and pressed his lips to Aziraphale’s. The kisses were slow and tender. With their initial rush of desire satiated they could kiss softly and slowly, and Aziraphale found that he enjoyed this tender exploration too. As lips brushed tenderly against lips, as tongues gently and gingerly slipped into warm and welcoming mouths, their expertise grew, until they were both adept at the art of a passionate kiss.

As their skill grew, so did their lust. With each kiss, their desire for each other was stocked, a flame coaxed lovingly back into a roaring fire. Aziraphale pressed up against Crowley, delighted to find that Crowley was just as hard as he was. Arms wrapped tightly around each other, lips locked in passionate kisses, they rocked steadily back and forth, erections brushing up against each other’s bodies.

Aziraphale panted and gasped into Crowley’s mouth as he rubbed himself against Crowley. Once again, his desire felt frantic, a desperate and hungry need. Yet, he was safe. He was held by Crowley, held lovingly by Crowley. He could indulge his own scandalous needs without fear. And he did. Aziraphale thrust against Crowley’s hip wantonly, contained in Crowley’s strong embrace, any sense of shame or caution long forgotten. When his orgasm came Aziraphale moaned loudly, giving voice to the pleasure that rushed through him in sweet waves. Crowley kissed him through it and then took hold of Aziraphale’s buttocks with a firm grip, holding him in place. Crowley rubbed himself off against Aziraphale’s thighs, as Aziraphale counted every freckled star on his shoulder with little kisses and, sometimes, tiny bites, until Crowley came with a shout. They kissed again, Crowley still panting hard, long and lazy kisses in the afterglow.

As the long kiss ended, Aziraphale nuzzled into Crowley’s shoulder. Crowley clicked his fingers and the pool was clean again. He held Aziraphale close, keeping him safe in his arms. Aziraphale sighed. He was more content than he had ever thought he could be. He traced little patterns on Crowley’s back with his fingertips and Crowley sighed in pleasure.

‘Angel,’ Crowley said quietly, ‘you come here every day, huh?’

‘Yes,’ Aziraphale replied, still drawing little swirling patterns across Crowley’s back, ‘it is good for your health.’

Crowley bit his lip and nodded. He made a little humming noise and said with deliberate nonchalance, ‘I might have to as well, then.’

‘You- you- aren’t going away again then?’ Aziraphale asked, his voice slipping into a higher register and his stomach twisting into a sudden knot at the thought Crowley leaving.

Crowley shook his head, ‘Nah, angel. I will have to eventually, of course. I’ll get orders. So, will you,’ he paused a beat, ‘But not yet.’

Aziraphale sighed with relief, ‘Ah- that long-term project, right? How is it going, by the way?’

Crowley grinned, a wide candid grin. His golden eyes shone in the dim room, ‘Well, angel. S’going well. In fact, it’s going better than I ever hoped for.’

Aziraphale smiled and nuzzled in. 


End file.
